Skip to main content

Purging Purses, Step 1- Admit I Have a Problem

I have a lot of purses, in a lot of different sizes.  I keep clinging to the idea that I can still make do with a small bag, like I did until I was about 30.  In university, I used an amazing French leather book bag, but most of the time, all I needed was a tiny cross body no bigger than a DVD case.

Just a selection.
In my high school in the 80s, a big purse was the hallmark of the fast girl.  The kind who carried around (and wore!) makeup.  We fresh-faced preppy girls needed nothing beyond a Chapstick.  My little bag would have contained folded up bills and a coin purse, a debit card, ID, the aforementioned Chapstick, and my keys.  Seems like all you'd need, right?  So why have my bags gotten so damned big?  And it's not just me, it seems to be all of us.

When I walk to work, I pass an astonishing number of women in the downtown core who are packed up like mountain climbers heading for the Himalayas, except with big purses, giant tote bags, and often wheeled carry-on suitcases.  They take more to work every day than I take to Europe for a week.

What are these women carrying? My old boss, for one, used to go to the gym before work, so she hauled in everything it took to get work ready, which meant a suitcase with a blow dryer, full makeup bag, curling iron, change of clothes, and heels. There has got to be an easier way to stay skinny.

I hit my own personal tipping point, so I am trying to scale back.


I maxed out when I realized I could survive a natural disaster with just my purse.  On the average day, I was carrying around a bottle of water, a few packs of almonds, Lara Bars, dental floss, nail clippers, compact, bandages (all kinds!), phone, ear buds, Purell, sunglasses, hat, sunscreen, several lipsticks, a big wallet, safety pins, shoe polish kit, sewing kit (thank you hotels!), and a mini flashlight. All the MacGyver necessities.  Hell, before 9/11, I always had a corkscrew in my purse! (now it belongs to a TSA guy at La Guardia.)

I mean, come on!

I've pared down the contents as best I can.  I no longer carry food, except gum.  I have one little makeup pouch that I can fill, which is easy to switch between bags.  Beyond that, just a wallet, phone, and sunglasses. Let's see how long I last.

The thing is, I'm too young for a purse like my grandma.  Hers was awesome, though, and my memory of it is that it weighed like 30 lbs. She carried around a rain bonnet, enough change to feed a hundred parking meters, keys, (so many keys!), a photo album, handkerchiefs, accordion-style coupon holder, socks, mints, hard candy, grandma lipstick, and Youth Dew.

I am going to try to KonMari my purse selection this weekend, and keep only those which spark joy, and aren't big enough for me to carry around half my possessions. Stay tuned for the results. Let's hope I'm successful, or I'm going to just lean into it and buy one of these.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Writing at Night

This is how I do it.  My brain turns on at the weirdest times. I first saw a pen like this when I was in my 20s, in a TV report about a movie reviewer, who used one to take his notes in a dark theatre.  I searched everywhere, and finally found one.  Before I had it, I tried a few other tactics to help me save for posterity the incredibly deep, meaningful thoughts I felt I was having at night. I tried just writing with a pencil in the dark, but that didn't work out too well.  My writing, on a good day, looks like someone suffering from the DTs sprayed Silly String  on paper during an earthquake.  What I mean to say is, it's really, really bad.  So, the pencil thing was a bust. Next, I bought a mini-tape recorder, but my middle-of-the-night mumbling was almost worse than my writing.  It seemed like my Shakespearean musings would be lost to humanity.  How tragic! The pen. Then, I got my flashlight pen.  It was a revela...

Girls Who Wear Glasses

Image- Pinterest I had braces for 3 years.  That may give you some idea of how out of whack my teeth were as an adolescent.  My dad used to say I could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence.  Even with good insurance, he still referred to my braces as "the trip to Hawaii."  I had them removed just a few weeks into high school.  I was perfect, for about a month. Then, one day in math class, my teacher asked me to do the problem written on the blackboard.  "There's something written on the blackboard?" I said, which was both smart-ass and true.  I couldn't see a damn thing on it.  So, off I went for an eye exam, and, sure enough, I needed glasses.  I was  not  pleased.  Hipsters hadn't yet been spawned by the devil, and the only people who wore glasses were nerds and old people.

IKEA Vittsjö Hack- My Golden Table

I am great at spending money.   If I know I'll wear it and feel pretty in it, I can justify a $40 lipstick.  It's all about perceived value.  $400 for gorgeous boots that I'll wear and be comfortable in?  Absolutely.  More than that for something that I'll put drinks and magazines (and my feet, when no one's around) on?  No, sorry, can't do it.  It's the law of diminishing returns.  Sure, a $500 coffee table is probably nicer than a $50 one, but it's not ten times nicer.  A coffee table can only be so interesting, to me, anyway.  I understand that this is the minority opinion, however. Hence, Ikea.